


Where the Land Meets the Sea

by Sulwen



Category: Actor RPF, Supernatural RPF
Genre: First Kiss, M/M, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-03
Updated: 2012-10-03
Packaged: 2017-11-15 13:18:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/527738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sulwen/pseuds/Sulwen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's the world turning on its axis, dizzying, and he feels like he's falling off.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Where the Land Meets the Sea

**Author's Note:**

> Set immediately post filming Supernatural season one. Thanks to silentdescant for the preread!

They leave Jeff's truck at the edge of the sand and cross the beach on foot, shoulders hunched and eyes narrowed against the chill in the wind. It's deserted – not exactly vacation season, and the locals know the beginnings of a storm when they see it, ocean and sky nearly indistinguishable from each other, grey on grey. Jensen walks until he finds a good spot, flat and clear of debris, and sits down on the packed-flat sand, arms propped up on his knees. He hears Jeff settle next to him, but he doesn't turn to look. They've hardly spoken this entire trip, and now they're here, and Jensen's still not ready. He doesn't know what he's waiting for.

He's never been to this part of the US before, and it's hard to believe this is the same coastline that runs all the way down to California. Start walking south, and eventually you'd see surfers and girls in bikinis and tourists from every corner of the globe. Here, now, it feels like he and Jeff are the only people left in the world, sitting here and looking over the edge of it. To the north, cliffs rise starkly out of the churning surf, pine trees growing slanted in the ever-present wind and hanging on stubbornly even to the very edge. Far to the south, fishing docks jut into the water, all the boats tied up and tucked in to wait out the weather. A sudden pang of want goes through Jensen at the sight of them – something like homesickness. He can hardly remember the last time he was out on the water.

Jensen drops his head and sighs. He doesn't know why he even agreed to come out here. He should be back in LA, trying to find temporary work, or in Texas with his family, not freezing his ass off on a random beach in Oregon. Stupid. Fucking idiotic. This isn't him. 

He sucks in a breath and looks up to tell Jeff...something, that he's regretting this, that they should go, that they never should have come. Whatever it is, all the words go right out of his head when he finds Jeff staring at him, heat in his eyes and the shadow of a smile on his lips. Jensen shivers, but not because of the cold.

“You're beautiful,” Jeff says, after a moment of locked eyes and held breath. His voice is dark and thick, viscous as it pours over his lips. Jensen wants to taste it, wants to find out how it would feel on his tongue, if it would be as rich and slow and sweet as molasses – as he's imagined. His cheeks heat, and something unsure and scared and excited squirms inside him, but he doesn't look away. He doesn't want to.

“Jesus Christ, Jeff, you can't just _say_ things like that,” Jensen protests, not sure if he's embarrassed or jealous. He wants to say things to Jeff, things about his voice, and his smile, and the way his eyes wrinkle at the corners when he laughs. It should be easy, the easiest thing in the world. It's not.

“Why not? It's true.” Jeff holds Jensen's eyes for another moment, then shifts and turns to look out at the horizon. “I like it out here,” he says. “It's open. You can _breathe._ ”

Jensen takes a deep breath, an instinctive reaction to Jeff's words. The air tastes cool and clean and carries the smell of salt, and Jeff's right. It goes down better than the thick dregs of the city – smoother. Easier.

“Should bring the dogs out here sometime,” Jensen ventures. “Bet they'd love it.”

At that, Jeff's face breaks into a grin. “Oh yeah, definitely. You should see them, Jen. After being out here, they never wanna leave.”

Jensen nods, and the conversation lapses into silence again, but it's different this time, almost comfortable. He finds himself staring at the waves, right at the point where they crest, where all their smooth, dark energy breaks open into tumbling foam, white pouring over white. It's hypnotic in a way, and he doesn't notice how much time has gone by until he flexes his fingers and realizes they're starting to go numb. He sits up jerkily and starts rubbing his hands over each other, rough, almost frantic. It's starting to get dark, and his breath is visible in the cold.

“Hey.” Jeff's voice again, softer than Jensen's ever heard it. When Jensen turns to look, his face is serious, but his eyes are nothing but kind. He's holding his hand out to Jensen, like an offering.

Jensen stops breathing.

The panic must show in his eyes. He can see it reflected back in Jeff's, concern and sympathy and maybe just a little bit of pity. Embarrassment flares hot, but not hot enough to get him to move, to reach out and take what Jeff is offering him. It shouldn't feel so important, so...big. It does.

“Jensen, it's okay. I promise. It'll be okay.”

There's no one around to see. Just Jeff, his hand still held out midair, steady as a stone, Jeff and the crash of the ocean and the circling of sea birds overhead, crying plaintively to each other and the world. The storm is closer now, blowing in from the west, and Jensen can feel the electric charge in the air, the tense clouds hanging heavy with rain, like waves just before they break. They'll have to go back soon, back into the world, and Jensen suddenly knows with inexplicable certainty that this is his chance – that it's now or never, and he's running out of time to choose.

He swallows, and grits his teeth, bracing himself as if for sudden pain. Then he closes his eyes, and slowly, slowly, reaches for Jeff's hand.

Jeff's fingers are warm, and his grip is gentle and strong as he wraps Jensen's hand in his bigger one. It's nothing like holding a girl's hand, not a damn thing like, and even with his eyes closed it's impossible to pretend. His breath is shaking as he lets it go, and this probably makes him an asshole, reacting this way. He knows it's okay. It's fine. It's nothing.

It's the world turning on its axis, dizzying, and he feels like he's falling off.

“Oh, sweetheart...come on, come here,” Jeff says, slowly pulling Jensen closer, until he's leaning against Jeff's broad chest, burying his face in warm cotton and letting Jeff wrap his arms around tense shoulders. Jeff bends down until his lips are brushing against soft, short hair, tickling just slightly on the back of Jensen's head as he speaks. “You're freezing. You should have said something.”

“M'fine,” Jensen says, muffled against Jeff's body. He's not, but Jeff feels amazing against him, solid as a rock. He can hear Jeff's heart beating, feel his chest rise and fall as he breathes, and his own breathing becomes slower and deeper as he listens, matching Jeff's rhythm beat for beat. Jeff gives a low, wordless sound of approval as Jensen relaxes against him, and purses his lips to press a barely-there kiss into Jensen's hair. It's so small, so sweet, but it lights up every nerve in Jensen's body – making him need. Making him _want._

Jensen waits with his head bowed, but Jeff doesn't kiss him again. He just sits, and holds Jensen close, and waits. One thumb strokes slowly over Jensen's shoulder, unhurried and inevitable, and it's the smallest touch imaginable, not even skin on skin, but it feels like so much more, like the whole world's narrowed down to just them. Just this.

Jensen sits up suddenly, surprising Jeff, surprising himself even more. He doesn't pause, doesn't think, just reaches forward and runs his fingers over Jeff's cheek, over the rough stubble and hard jaw and soft, delicate lips. He pauses there, fingertips on Jeff's mouth, and after a moment Jeff closes his eyes and parts his lips, and Jensen gets just the barest sensation of the wet heat inside. He's getting hard, blood running hot and thoughts going hazy, and this, this is what pushes the fear away, the overwhelming _want_ that rushes through him and takes its place. He's not questioning anymore. He knows.

Jeff's hands come up to frame Jensen's face, pull him in, and Jensen lets him, licking his lips and opening his mouth and letting his eyes flutter closed, and all he can think as the moment collapses into one perfect singularity is: _finally._

And then, in the second before the kiss, a deafening peal of thunder crashes through the sky, and rain starts pouring harder than Jensen's ever seen it, drenching them in seconds. Jeff scrambles to his feet, shading his eyes from the downpour and peering into the sky. Jensen follows him up, but his eyes don't leave Jeff's face despite the rain. Fuck the rain – they're already wet, and they were so close...

But Jeff's shaking his head, flashes of lightning making his face look strange and foreign. He has to shout to be heard over the storm, telling Jensen that they have to go, _now,_ before grabbing his arm and taking off at a run, pulling him back over the sand, back to warmth and safety and a roof over their heads. Back to people and cameras and everything that comes with them. Back to the world.

It should be terrifying, and disappointing – a moment lost, a chance slipped by. But as Jensen runs, he realizes that he's not leaving this place as the same man who entered it. He feels lighter, freer, like something that had been knotted inside him has been unraveled and set loose. Like maybe he doesn't need the perfect moment anymore. Like maybe...

They reach the truck and hurry inside it, slamming the doors behind them and wiping rainwater out of their eyes, and the second Jensen can breathe again he knows exactly what he wants to do. No hesitation, and no holding back. No more waiting.

He turns in his seat and meets Jeff's eyes, and sees them widen at whatever they find in his own. And Jensen smiles, and moves, as easy and inevitable as waves on the shore.


End file.
